Sobering Up
by Braveheart57
Summary: They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but does that apply to a demon?


To say that Crowley and Aziraphale's roommate situation was gaining conflict would not be entirely inaccurate. Since he had moved in, Aziraphale had taken it upon himself to implement several changes to Crowley's apartment. He'd bought an assortment of tropical flowers and hid all imperfect plants so Crowley couldn't shred them. He'd also put up paintings of old monarchs to go with the throne. But what ticked Crowley off the most, was when he challenged a particular fear Crowley had.

You see, a celestial being doesn't normally need to expel waste of any kind. Any food consumed, like sushi, simply evaporates. Same goes for liquid. With one key exception: alcohol. Now, normally it can be removed in a highly sanitary process, where the liquid is simply(with some straining) drained from the body back into the bottle. It's sort of like transcendental urination. However, after staying on Earth for a long time, Aziraphale had begun experimenting, with expelling it the human way. Crowley always chastised this as a waste of good alcohol. Although really, he was jealous. Because the act of "sobering up" as they liked to put it, via a human toilet, was an acquired skill, one Crowley hadn't.

Did I arrange for these two polar opposites to end up living together? I'll never tell. I will admit however, I do love the smell of burning books.. But anyway, onto the story.

Crowley woke up one morning with a thundering headache. He got out of bed and stumbled into the living room with the intention of "sobering up". He could feel in his abdomen, that he would need more than one bottle. But as he looked around, he noticed all the bottles they had drank the night before were mysteriously missing.

"Aziraphale.." he growled to himself. Sighing in resignation, he walked to their shared bathroom. Standing in front of the toilet, he wondered what to do. He wasn't certain, whether he would be able to aim without spilling. And he didn't want that, Aziraphale would never let him forget it.

Coming to the conclusion that the toilet, was not an option, Crowley ran out into the streets to get some new bottles. He found some extra large bottles of sparkling water, which was absolute torture to carry, as the bubbles moved the water around, as the wine moved inside of Crowley. He put his thighs together to hold on, as he stepped in the queue to pay. It was then that all of the customers in front of him, one by one, began running back to get items they'd forgotten. All of them for a barbecue. How nice! For Crowley, the silver lining was that it allowed him to do a little dance without being noticed. It wasn't unlike a gavotte, if the gavotte involved occasionally touching yourself. Being unable to run, he summoned his Bentley and raced it back to the apartment.

As soon as he stepped through the door, Aziraphale greeted him.

"Oh, wonderful, you've bought more to drink, here I'll take that" Aziraphale said happily, grabbing the bottles. He then proceeded to fake dropping them, using his powers to quickly smash every single one of them.

"Oops," he remarked falsely.

"You did that on purpose," Crowley sneered as he curled his right leg up around his left like a snake.

"Did I? Now, why in Heaven would I do such a thing? Bathroom's still available if you need it," Aziraphale said, feigning innocence as he walked away with a smirk, quickly cleaning up the mess with a snap of his fingers.

Seeing himself beat, Crowley walked into the toilet again. He put some towels on the seat and floor before finally giving it a try. He made sure to have as much of the bowl in sight. Crowley leaned back, and started channelling the wine out of him. 'Splish splash'. He opened his eyes. It was in the bowl. He continued, with one eye open. Seeing it all go in the bowl, he relaxed completely. He moaned slightly in relief, as the wine poured from out of thin air, into the bowl. Once finished he flushed, shook his shoulders in satisfaction and walked out to meet Aziraphale. His angelic roommate was sitting at the table, already having cooked breakfast for the two of them.

"Good news," he stated with glee as he sat down, "I learned a new trick," he said with a big smile.

"See, not that hard. They say can't teach an old dog new tricks, but with an old demon, apparently, you can," Aziraphale noted, immensely proud of him. Crowley made a quiet noise, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head in agreement.

"Never again," Crowley insisted, pointing a finger at Aziraphale in warning.

"Wouldn't dream of it in 6000 years," he promised.

They had a lovely, comfortable breakfast together. The End.


End file.
